May 20, 2008

Continuing with their theme of over-indulgent mediocrity, which has been raised to a level heretofor unprecedented in Idol history, American Idol decided to “treat” we the viewers to boxing comparisons.  Yaawwnn!  The good Farmacist, Dr. P. Haze, and I put on our best duds, spiffed up the Progeny and trecked over to the Nokia for the first part of the big finale.  The people were beautiful, the Nokia gussied up beyond good taste and, well, reality was no where to be found.

Following previous seasons, the first round number was chosen by Clive Davis.  Now, Mr. Davis may have the “golden ear”, of that I have no doubt.  But he’s old and his song selection reflected his antiquity.  Both Davids performed their numbers with gusto, but, if I’m being honest (and we know I always am), David Cook ended his portion of the competition last week.  Heck, he pretty much said so himself.   That’s not to say he sucked, because he didn’t.  He was just outsung by little eflin boy David Archuleta.

In fact, all three rounds were dominated by little David…Archuleta.  And, can I just say, that this idea of letting people “write” songs for the finale and then have the contestants sing them is something the producers should reconsider.  Every year these songs have sucked, sucked, sucked!  Tonight was absolutely no different.  These were not songs I, or any other music loving person, would enjoy hearing on the regular!

Round three allowed the boys to choose their own song.  Like Simon, I was hoping the hear Billie Jean from Cook.  Contestants have done this in the past, reprising their best performances from the season.  However, I’m glad he didn’t.  He showed, to me anyway, that he’s an evolving artist that doesn’t need to rely on a “greatest hits” album to win the show.  While it would have been nice to have heard one of these numbers,  he did a brilliant job with the one he performed. 

Little David, of course, went the opposite way reprising his performance of Imagine.  Once again, he left out parts of the number and, while performing beautifully, ruined the song for me.  You know, I’m tired of the comparison of little David and the phone book.  It’s not a good comparison.

Unlike Simon, I can’t say that eflin boy David landed any knock-out punches.  Maybe it was the lushness that is the Nokia.  Maybe it’s because I’m trying to whack this out in the back of a lovely towncar with the Progeny’s head resting gently on my shoulder as he slumbers.  Maybe it’s because my chat earlier in the evening with D.C. Vodkalips reminded me of just how much I don’t care.  Whatever the reason, tonight just didn’t ring bells for me.  Which is too bad!

I can’t pick a winner.  They were both capable in their own way.  The rumble at the Nokia was much more like a tiptoe through the tulips;  Pretty, capable, sickeningly sweet.  The boxing comparison, the choosing of Sir Andrew Lloyd Weber, showed once again just how out of touch to reality this “reality” show has become.  The winner is irrelevant because “they’re both already winners!”  Which makes all of the hoopla just a bunch of hot air. 

David squared

May 14, 2008

Yes, by now you already know that the David’s will be gracing the big stage at the Kodak Theatre next week. We pretty much knew the results. We are not shocked.

Once again, I was distracted. My co-hort, The Professor, who got bored nearly immediately this season and, despite his promises otherwise, could not make himself sit in front of his trusty laptop and whip out words of wit and wisdom regardin this mess of a season on Idol. Anyway…that sentance was a mess huh? Well, blame the Professor! My phone rang at a little after 7p alerting me to the Professor’s imminent arrival here in the Southland. Before I even had a chance to fluff-n-stuff and throw the progeny in the shower, in walked the ever distinguished Professor wearing a tight-ass shirt covering a rather amazing torso that proudly proclaimed that “It’s beautiful being easy!” Ahhh…truer words were never more appropriately applied. In with him came the progeny’s amazingly beautiful and breath-takingly voluptous Tia from the OC. Having my two best friends in one room is rare and quite frankly drove any thought of who, what, when, where…at least when it came to Idol.

Truthfully though, who cared about private planes, limos to schools, hometowns and blah, blah, blah. I didn’t! I did notice two things though – the sound was once again a mess tonight. Don’t know who’s been running it…but they outta be strung up by nipple clamps. And, I noticed Fantasia’s hair. She “tried something different” and DAMN…and on the subject of Fantasia…she looked FIERCE!!!!!!! WOO WOO

In the end though, we knew. We knew that Sayesha’s spot in the bottom three had finally run it’s course. She’s lived their practically the whole season. And, while none of this year’s contestants are AMAZING, they are good…she just didn’t quite match up to David squared.

Now, I’ve got to go down one more bottle of water. That damn Professor and the progeny’s voluptous Tia from the OC tempt me to do bad things and, well…I really don’t want to show up to the place I pretend to work (they pretend to pay me…so it works out) being a hung-over wretch!

Night y’all!

Isn’t it ironic?

May 13, 2008

No, no one sang the above mentioned Alanis Morrisett song – thankfully! What’s ironic is that I find myself done with this season of American Idol and it’s a full week before the Grand Finale. That’s some sort of record. The show has gotten predictable and, if I’m being honest, which we know I always am, just plain boring. Frankly, I was far more interested in the big ass steaks the progeny and I were grilling than what these semi-lovable frauds had on their song lists for the night. In fact, so enthralled were we with the grilling of the big ass steaks and a fine chat with the young neighbor from across the fence that we missed the entire first third of the night – the sad part is that I didn’t feel like I missed much.

The second part of the show was devoted to waking the good Farmacist, Dr. P. Haze and then eating our big ass steaks, along with some lovely rice pilaf and some tender, buttery, sweet corn-on-the-cob. Between bites and gasps for air, we managed to catch a wee bit of the “contestant’s choice” songs of the night. The progeny even joined elfin boy David Archuletta in singing along to Chris Brown’s little ditty after which he intoned that little David was NO Chris Brown! I couldn’t have agreed more! Sayesha showed that she is ready for Broadway with her rendition of Fever. Don’t know what Paula was thinking because Sayesha for sure showed that she is the next American Broadway Idol – and the world rejoiced. Don’t know what the heck it was that David Cook sang but…bleck!

Third round again found me a little too busy to pay attention. Grilling big ass steaks, cooking up mountains of rice and making the perfect corn-on-the-cob comes with a great price – dirty dishes! Now usually I would forgo the voluminous mess in favor of watching the hot mess we call Idol, but frankly tonight, I found myself more interested in dish duty than paying attention to these frauds. This third round was producers choice and it quickly became apparent something we’ve known practically this whole damn season – the producers are completely out of touch! The song chosen for elfin boy David, why by the way, and if every last news report is to be believed, is daddy less when backstage now, was gawd awful. As the judges noted, this boy could sing the phone book and I agree – but why remind us of that little fact? I have a theory – the theory is that the producers were doing their best to shut elfin boy David out of the Grand Finale. I think they would like Sayesha and David Cook at the big show. Speaking of these two idiots, they performed their third round numbers quite nicely.

Following the show, and when I should have felt inclined to vote for someone, I instead rang up the ever-so intoxicated D.C. Vodkalips. She, like me, is completely over this season. And I believed her. Wanna know why? Of course you do, silly question. In seasons past, Ms. Vodkalips would have been sending up smoke signals from her phone – by three minutes after 9p (which is the exact time I called), she would be well on her way to 100 dials for her choice (she’s picked every winner so far!). But last night, at 9:03, the first shock was that I got through. The second shock was that I was NOT told to hang the [insert favorite expletive here] up and VOTE, VOTE, VOTE. In fact, we had a nice leisurely conversation lasting for nine minutes and fifty-eight seconds according to my trust digital phone. It was during this phone call that Ms. Vodkalips told me she had voted for the winner – but only 17 times. Shocking! Well, maybe not to you, but to me it was absolutely mind-blowing that this hysterical Swedish alcoholic just had given up. But in my heart, I agreed! I don’t know what the future holds over at the Kodak next week. I do know that the winner will be…drum roll please…DAVID COOK!

Now, I’ve got to wrap this up because Chef Ramsey is seriously slamming sh*t around over there in Hell’s Kitchen. Heck, he’s gotten so irate that the good Farmacist is sitting up and in rapt attention – gotta go!


May 8, 2008

I was absolutely much too busy last evening watching Kobe Bryant receive his first ever MVP award to watch the show I’m suppose to write about. I don’t care! Frankly, unless they had given me the judges seats on Idol and sat Buddha and Gandhi on either side of me, I just couldn’t be bothered. And, if I’m being honest, and you know I always am, even Buddha and Gandhi, as much as I appreciate them, may not have been enough of a draw to drag me away from my excellent seats at the Staples Center watching Kobe receive his MVP trophy and then kick the Utah Jazz’s ass! Ok…he didn’t do it by himself…but, gotta tell ya, he was pretty amazing to watch!

So, here’s the deal. I did not watch Bo Bice perform. We all know he’s a nice guy and yeah…whatever. I did not watch Maroon 5 belt out their latest. And I love me some Maroon 5. But even had they been nakkid on stage, I just couldn’t be bothered! I did not watch what we already knew was going to happen. I heard on the news this morning. Yes, you heard that right…I heard on the news. Say WHAT?!?!? Seriously, if LA news doesn’t have anything more important to report than the axing of Jason Castro, a contestant most deserving to be axed, then we’re in a heap of trouble. Then again, it is LA and our stars are as important as our homicides. That’s not totally a bad thing!


Crushing the Bob’s!

May 6, 2008

Oh dear geebus! Somebody’s head got WAY too damn big after last week’s big safety show and, well, it showed tonight. Y’all know I have loved me some Jason Castro and have wished, dreamed and visualized that dread-locked, breathless thing strumming me like I was that geetar that is often slung around his shoulders but tonight that child plum lost his damn mind! First, just because you got a decent facsimile of that god Bob Marley’s hair, does NOT by any stretch or lock of hair, mean that you should try to pull out “I Shot the Sheriff” and then give the worst performance of your life with it. Trust me little boy, your cute smile and stoner like guffaw’s will not, absolutely not save your ass! That was dreadful! And if that wasn’t bad enough, he done went and forgot the lyrics to that other god, Bob Dylan’s number “Tamborine Man”…say what?! If I’m being honest, and you know I always am, Mr. Castro would absolutely not be the one I would have voted for tonight…fantasy or no! Bleck!!

The Bob’s lost their mo and their jo tonight. It was absolutely devastating! But the Bob’s weren’t done in by Mr. Cook or Ms. Mercado both of whom were very capable…sort of. Well, ok…first round really just sucked! I mean Duran Duran and Tina Turner were covered and rather badly! Tina Turner is my all time Idol, I worship at the legs that sixty something year old woman possesses. Having seen that woman in concert perform “Proud Mary” and then watching that, loveable for sure, fraud make a mess and a mockery of it just made me sick to my stomach. The good Farmacist, Dr. P. Haze never bothered to turn over to pronounce that Tina Turner, Ms. Sayesha was NOT.

I will not say that their second numbers sucked…in fact, I quite liked Sayesha’s rendition of Sam Cooke’s “Change is Gonna Come”! D.C. Vodkalips rang to say that she absolutely couldn’t stand the unseemly white “bra” strap that was running across the front of Sayesha’s dress. Thankfully, Ms. Vodkalips felt that Sayesha redeemed herself with the sparkley and distracting lip gloss. Frankly though, after all the boohoo’ing which was way too reminiscent of that gawd-awful, blubbering and babbling Brooke, I was ever so slightly put off. David Cook sang a song by The Who…big woo! He’s better than what he was tonight. Not to fear though, like Ahnold…he’ll be baaack!

The real crushing though was done by elfin boy David Archuletta. Now kiddo’s, ya’ll know I really am not a fan. Not because the child sucks or anything so silly because we all know he has an amazing voice. But something isn’t right. He’s for damn sure a prodigy. And well, he should be given props for pulling off two quite beautiful performances. I adored the first one and if I voted – because kiddo’s, I may write about it, but I don’t care quite enough to pick up the phone and vote – I would have stood by that cute little child, darlin’ for sure! I’m not sure I felt so wonderful about the cover of my sixth cousin, twice removed – yes, I’m related ever so slightly to that probably dead legend Elvis although not nearly close enough to get any money out of the deal, but enough for bragging rights – yes it was sweet and tender and sent the little girls, who don’t have an ice ball’s chance in Dante’s hades of ever getting in that child’s pants, into full swoon. Me…not so much! However, he crushed, crushed, crushed the Bob’s, and for that, well, I grudgingly must give him his props! Like previous winner Taylor Hicks, I see a long career for this child as Wayne Newton’s replacement!  Heck, don’t knock it…Wayne Newton’s made a fortune doing whatever shtick it is he does!

Seriously y’all, I’ve played the Drunk Paula game and am feeling, like Ms. Vodkalips, just a little bit tipsy.  It’s going to be a struggle to take the dog out to pee, tuck the progeny in, pry the good, but very asleep Farmacist off the sofa,  and then watch Chef Ramsey bully and badger those imbecile’s over at Hell’s Kitchen.